In Review
by bhut
Summary: After the 1st season's finale, the now free Flinch is reviewing one last time the memories of his fallen fellow Order members  Malco, Brackus, and Lord Nazmul. The Order, however, may be more alive than Flinch thinks. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**In review**

Flinch and the rest of the Di-Gata universe belong to Greg Collison and Nirvana Entertainment. The lyrics are from the Irish folk song "O'er the way".

Ladies and Gentlemen, and all you other figments of my drunken imagination – welcome, welcome to my first – and probably last – review of the annual achievements of the order of Infinis, done by me, the very low and humble Flinch, the new head of the new – and improved (ha! ha!) order of Infinis!

_O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,  
His hopes rode off o'er the way.  
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,  
His hopes rode off o'er the way._

So, let us proceed in the traditional manner. First, there was Malco, my very own partner, forced onto me (ha! ha!) by my very own superiors, Brackus and Nazmul. They did not trust me on my own, megalomaniacs that they were. That is genius for you.

Now, what can I say about Malco? He was a good partner in his fashion – big, strong, and perfect to hide behind, to escape all the lumps that those meddling kids threw at us. He never spoke, and I always doubted that he actually used his head as anything other than an eating orifice, but he had that gut instinct and rudimentary common sense that almost made him seem as an ordinary, albeit extra large, human.

What? Oh, (ha! ha!) I forgot! The ladies; that's right, the ladies loved Malco, the big oaf was big in every part of his body; the ladies considered him manly, and Malco, well, big departed Malco loved the ladies, even if they weren't human but some of Lord Nazmul's more unusual agents. And Malco loved pot. Oh yes, Malco loved getting his highs after we got our lows from those meddling kids by smoking his trusty bong and sharpening his trusty fists on (ha! ha!) you guessed it – me!

But boy, how will I miss Malco! I mean, so what that he considered me lower than him in the power chain, and so what if he pushed me around whenever he needed his ego to be soothed, and so what if he never appreciated my genius? Malco did all right in the end, serving as a host body for Lord Nazmul – I cannot imagine a more fitting end for the giant dunce, after all, he never really used his body for anything other than destruction, which made him into something not quite human. On the other hand, maybe he was not quite human to begin with – if he was, we would be swimming in his kids by now, but in reality, there are not any. Good for us, the last thing we want – by "we", I mean the order of Infinis – are more of Malco; as a single individual, he was bad and useless enough. Oh sure, he was very impressive on a parade, and he was good in beating up people, but guess what – when it came to the Di-Gata defenders, those meddling kids, then big-strong-intimidating-powerful Malco was as useless as the little brilliant old me, but did Brackus and Lord Nazmul crack down on him as they did on me? Of course not, Malco was always innocent of whatever would go astray, of course he was! And Malco was so obedient, why if Brackus or Lord Nazmul would throw a stick and tell him to fetch it, he would do so, drooling all the way! Malco had no intelligence as a human, but his gut instincts would steer him no wrong… right to the point where Lord Nazmul overrode and destroyed his rudimentary spirit and made himself at home in Malco's buff body! That settled his hash, you can believe it!

Therefore, the order of Infinis remembers you, Malco, for one last time. You never amounted much to anything, just some destroyed property and lives, something that any Di-Gata Guardian, like my own Dreadcrow! Moreover, Dreadcrow does not demand in being paid in anything! (ha! ha!) And so, Malco has created nothing, contributed nothing, sired nothing (well, no one, if you want to split hairs), has left nothing behind him – in short, has left no trace that he even existed, save in our minds; so, as we pour our libations in Malco's memory we leave him behind us (save in the order's archives, ha-ha), and consign him to the oblivion in this world, which the big oaf so richly deserved.

_O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,  
His hopes rode off o'er the way.  
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,  
His hopes rode off o'er the way._

Next on our agenda list is Brackus. No, I know, that this should be the honorary Lord Brackus, but as the new head of the order of Infinis now (ha! ha!) I declare that title null and void, because frankly, when looking over the deceased's actions, one comes to the realization that if Brackus was a Lord, then so can anyone else. Why? Let me show you why.

The old order of Infinis actually ran a very compact and tight squad. Lord Nazmul was the great wizard of Yan; I was his brilliant scientist assistant; Malco the muscle that was given to reinforce me and my guardian; and Brackus, was, well, everything else, starting with the order's press secretary and ending with the order's administrator. What is so noble about that, I ask you? But no, the press secretary of the order must be someone important, and so Brackus was made into Lord Brackus, got all those ribbons, medals, crosses, and whatnot to illustrate his lordly mug, and so one. Since Lord Nazmul as the great wizard of Yan that he was never cared about such things, Brackus got the idea that he was the next important member of the order, and in the end, in his megalomania, he dared to challenge Lord Nazmul himself! Naturally, he got introduced to the Spirits of Dako, and let me testify as a first-hand witness, it was not a pleasant way to go – but one that Brackus had obviously earned!

Oh, thank you honorable members of the order for reminding me (ha! ha!) that this is a solemn review, a post-storm gathering of the order, time to remember and libate the deceased, no matter how poorly they acted when alive. Speaking of life – no matter how arrogant and obtuse Brackus did behave in life, he was still head and shoulders over Malco, metaphorically speaking. Firstly, Brackus did do his job, and compared to Malco's, it was so much more complex – he ran the day-to-day administrative duties of our order, and let me point out that whoever his replacement will be, he'll… well, actually, he'll have a much easier job, since due to Brackus' treachery, the order has lost quite a large fraction of its belongings and estates. Great job there Brackus, you really know how to earn post-mortem compliments. Maybe we should give your job back to Doku now (ha! ha!), if we can find him or anything like that (ho! ho!).

Hmmm… Ladies, Gentlemen, and all you other figments of my drunken imagination, is there anything else I should speak about Brackus before giving him his libation and leaving him behind? Oh yes, his son. Young Adam, who has joined the Defenders by now. Way to go, you dumb kids! The lad's father has betrayed the Defenders to work for Nazmul, who used to be a defender too… and now, lo and behold, Adam is a Defender himself. Hopefully, I won't be around for the times when he'll grow up, find his own Nazmul, and help to destroy this generation of the Defenders… but given my luck, I'll probably be.

Anyways, the Order of Infinis remembers you, Brackus, for your wretched deeds. You betrayed the Defenders for Nazmul, you betrayed Nazmul for yourself, and your son betrayed you for the Defenders. The circle of treachery has come full cycle, and mayhaps has started again. Therefore, this is your legacy, Brackus – the ruins of the once-mighty Order of Infinis, and a son, who has inherited your treacherous blood; so, as we pour our libations in Brackus' memory we leave him behind us, and consign him to the oblivion in this world, which he so rightfully earned through his actions.

_O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,  
His hopes rode off o'er the way.  
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,  
His hopes rode off o'er the way._

And the last, but certainly not least but the greatest, is the founder of our – ha-ha – Order, Lord Nazmul. Now there was a man worthy to be served! The greatest wizard of Yan in our day and age, he was brought low by a group of meddling kids cashing in on the treachery within the order itself! Poor Lordship… and yet, it was not too unexpected, at least in my experienced eye. Lord Nazmul was a great wizard and a lord, so it was natural that he had no or little experience in the mundane matters of administration and management, which left him vulnerable to the treachery from within. I, of course, warned him repeatedly, but sadly, this great wizard thought that he could handle it by himself. He was right, of course, but sadly, that gave those meddling kids an opening through which to strike.

Now, what else can I say about the great Nazmul? Truly, words fail me, or maybe it is just all this booze (ha! ha!). The man made the order single-handedly; his guardian was the great Megalith; he wielded incredible power, so why didn't he listen to me?! I revealed Brackus' plans to him repeatedly; I brought him the stone of king Magnun, the last of the great Bakorian kings; I was helped with the charlatan Leizel's – oops, I begin to ramble, ha-ha. Everybody here knows that I was loyal to Nazmul, not Brackus, right?

Whew! Ladies, and gentlemen, and other figments of my imagination. It seems that all this libating and mourning has finally gotten to my head – my tongue is starting to stutter, I am getting sleepy! Ergo, I daresay that I am going to cut close my last eulogy to the last name of on our list, that is Lord Nazmul, and get on to the libation itself.

Lord Nazmul (hic)! As we – by "we", I mean the order of Infinis, ha-ha – pour our libations in your memory we leave you behind us, and consign him to the oblivion in this world, for he had left nothing behind him, nothing whatsoever that wasn't destroyed by those meddling Di-Gata Defenders – his Order (ha-ha-hic), his Guardian the Megalith, his body, both old and new, and even himself and his new home, the Nova Stone. Good-bye, Lord Nazmul, good-bye. You probably deserve a better eulogy than this, but what the Hell? I am free, I am drunk, and I am free! Good luck to your in your after life, Lord Nazmul, and a heartfelt good riddance to you! (Hic!)

_O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,  
His hopes rode off o'er the way.  
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,  
His hopes rode off o'er the way._


	2. Rebirth

**Rebirth**

Flinch, Snare, Kali, and the rest of the Di-Gata universe belong to Greg Collison and Nirvana Entertainment."

Flinch was swimming. Flinch was swimming through a woody nut-brown sea and was having the time of his life. In other words, Flinch was dead to the world, as he had drunk his fill after many months of abstinence. In more words, Flinch was a happy drunk. Moreover, in his happy sleep, Malco, Brackus, or Lord Nazmul did not bother him, for they were all gone, dead and gone, and he, the long-nosed little runt, survived, and was now carrying out his plans of eating his fill and doing a formal libation for the deceased co-members of the Order of Infinis. Currently, he did both, and was going on with the next part of his program, that is sleeping off the alcohol. But here he was interrupted.

The shock came sharp and sudden. "Wake up you little moron, and talk!" barked a sharp voice a sudden shower of cold water poured onto the diminutive scientist's head. "What is going on? Why is no one responding at the headquarters?" snarled a rough voice.

"Hah?" Flinch opened his eyes, feeling the first steps of a headache coming on. "Who in damnation are you?"

"You don't remember me?" the snarling voice from behind the metal mask had an odd accent that made it sound not quite human. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. With your body weight and these weight of the bottles-"

"I was doing a libation – for Lord Nazmul, and Brackus, and even Malco, if only because no one else is probably going to do it," Flinch snapped, startling his interlocutor. "Anyways, I believe I remember you – you're the bounty hunter Brackus and Lord Nazmul employed from time to time, though your name escapes me at the moment. It's Trapjaw, right?"

"No, the name's _Snare_," the lizard man snarled. "Snare, got it?"

"Fine, fine, whatever," Flinch said absentmindedly. "The name's Snare, so now go on wherever you were going."

"Actually, I was looking for you."

"For _me_?"

"Well, more like for someone who knows what is going on… and what are you talking about? A libation?"

"That's right," Flinch smiled venomously. "While you, Snare, were doing your thing I know not where, Lord Nazmul had to deal with both the Defenders and Brackus' treason. With my help and Malco's muscle, he was able to destroy Brackus, but the Defenders got him through the Nova Stone. So now, Malco is dead and gone, Brackus has been given to the Spirits of Dako, and Lord Nazmul, and his guardian the Megalith, and probably the Nova Stone itself, the Defenders destroyed them all. Got it?"

The bounty hunter of the Order got it all completely - on one level. On another, it looked like he tried to smash a tree with his head and failed to do so. "You're not kidding, aren't you?" he asked, more rhetorically than specifically. "Well, that is certainly a curve. So much lucrative business has vanished. Those damn Defenders! I am almost tempted to track them down for free and explain to them, with great prejudice, the depths of inconvenience they cast me down into!"

"So why don't you?" Flinch asked, showing the minimum amount of interest, as he packed up and was preparing to leave.

"Because I already did me free job of the month," Snare shook his head.

"Oh? Who?"

"Me," spoke a figure, emerging from the shadows.

"Who's he?" Flinch asked, as he continued packing up.

"She. Kali, one of Nazmul's better agents."

"Really, what does this make you?"

"I was talking about _infiltration_ agents. Me, I am more of a "capture and bring them alive or dead" kind of guy."

"And you decided to capture me for free? Gee, should I be flattered?"

"No he tracked you down for free because of me!" Shadowy Kali got tired of being ignored by the other two.

For their parts, Flinch and Snare actually forgot about Kali being here, nor that were they going to neither admit nor care about it.

"Tracked me for you?" Flinch's voice could peel paint. "Yeah right! Malco was the ladies man, not me! Frankly, for my part, I do not care what you two had, because he is gone, and I am through with him, so good-bye!"

"Oh, and where will you go, little man?" Snare said sarcastically. "Into which hiding place will you scurry, coward?"

Flinch stiffened and slowly turned around his axle, looking directly into the bigger humanoid's eyes. His own eyes, moments ago unfocused and opaque from alcohol, now were completely sober and as hard as metal.

"I may be a coward," he snarled, "but I was there when the Defenders defeated Nazmul, and got out only when the Megalith came forth, while you, you money-grabbing fat cat, were busy doing I know not what I know not where, so shut up and go back to wherever you came from!"

"Maybe I will!" Snare snarled, his own hackles rising. "The Order of Infinis is as dead as Brackus, and if you're the last senior member, then rebirthing it is pointless!"

"Who said anything about rebirthing it?" Flinch said, genuinely confused. Slowly, the two males turned towards Kali, who was still standing in the shadows, obviously unwilling to get involved in their showdown. Now, however, with their attention fully on her, she began to regret that she did not interfere sooner, when the conditions were more in her favor.

"What?" she said, feeling oddly defensive before the combined glares. "After all, what shall you two do?"

"I'm going back to bounty hunting, not that I have ever left it," Snare shrugged casually.

"And when the warranty on your gadgets runs out?"

"Hey, I made those gadgets in the first place! Lord Nazmul wanted his bounty hunters to have the best equipment ever, but since he was a wizard and a nobleman, he turned to his second-in-command – Brackus – to deal with it, and since Brackus knew neither hide nor hair in science, guess who had to make them? Me, that's who!"

"You?"

"Yeah! Want me to short circuit the whole thing to prove my point?"

"No need," Snare shook his head: he could smell that the little man was not bluffing at all, and decided that he did not want to push him to point of action. "Tell you what. If you do not want to spend the rest of your life just being drunk in various parts of Rados, come and work with me as the technical support guy or something like that. How does that sound?"

"Hmmm… How much will I get paid?"

"Twenty percent from each bounty?"

"Twenty-five percent."

"Twenty-two.

"Twenty-three."

"Twenty-two and a half?"

"Deal."

"Excuse me?" Kali's voice rose, as she realized that the two males were completely serious in their bartering and forgot all about her. "Just what are you two doing?"

"Thinking about the future," Snare shrugged. "The Order of Infinis is dead and gone-"

"No it's not! _We_'re the Order of Infinis now!"

"No, sister, I thought about it quite a bit," Flinch shook his head. "_Lord Nazmul _was the Order of Infinis if to speak honestly, none of us here could ever match him, and now he's gone for good – just like the Megalith, his great guardian. Without them, any Order we'll get up and running will be a poorly made parody of what he had."

"His bootlicking aside, the scientist here got a point," Snare nodded. "Without Nazmul and the Megalith the Order would be a bully without the bull – an empty threat. Want no part of that, thank you!"

"Oh, so you're going to stick with bounty hunting?" Kali's voice lacked its old bite.

"Pays the bills," Snare shrugged and Flinch nodded in affirmative. "Plus it's not like you were doing anything different with your life before, is it?"

"I was pursuing a higher goal," Kali ground out.

"Yeah, the little goal for Lord Nazmul's new body," Flinch nodded sagely. "In the end, though, he had to do with Malco. Maybe that was his undoing. After all, Malco was hardly-"

"Shut up! I don't care about that!" Kali squealed. "Darn it, you want to fade into obscurity when we could-"

"We can do nothing!" Snare snapped. "Yo, scientist, got some of that libation wine left?"

"A bit, just a spot on the bottom. Why?"

"Give it to her, would you? I think she needs her own closure."

"But I did the libations already – to do them twice would be sacrilege!"

"So she'll do it for the Megalith or something," Snare shrugged. "Sacrilege or not, she needs closure."

"I don't need your stinking wine, be gone from my sight!"

The two males whirled around, and stared right at Kali's face, as the shapechanger was currently in her giant serpent's shape. Snare snarled. He did not want to come to this, but if the legless female thought that she could push him around, she had another thing coming-

"Let's go," Flinch spoke up, seeing that his potential new investment was in danger of being mangled before he actually got his allotted twenty-two and a half percent. "The lady obviously is feeling irrational today."

That caused an unexpected reaction in Snare. The bounty hunter remembered that according to his culture, the females were supposed to be irrational, and it was the males' job to be the rational ones. "Fine," he snarled out. "Scientist, let's go. She wants to act insane, it's her choice."

"Fair enough," Flinch nodded; relieved that for once he avoided being caught in a middle of a fight that did not really involve him. "Here's some wine left, if you want to do your own libation, feel free."

Kali did not cry as she watched Snare and Flinch leave the clearing; she was beyond such emotions; but the sounds that came from her as practically all of her hopes and dreams vanished into thin air sounded remarkably like dry sobs.

These sounds reached the ears of Snare and caused him to pause. Flinch noticed that and paused as well.

"You know," he said slowly, "maybe it's not the best idea, leaving behind a shapechanger who's angry at us, you know?"

"You have a point," Snare nodded. "Let me try one last thing."

The two turned and came back, catching Kali flat-footed, figuratively speaking. "What do you two want?" she hissed, hoping that neither will notice the reddish tinge in her eyes.

"Look," Snare said, "we're not friends, but I don't want our acquaintance to end so poorly."

"Well, that's too bad, because we have nothing to speak about! I care about the Order-"

"Look," Flinch rolled his eyes. "No offense, but you look as bad as some of the ladies that got acquainted with Malco on a personal level and regretted it. We, however, want to mend the bridge so look, how about we do one more job for free and that's it?"

"Now see here, scientist, I am not in a fashion of overdoing free jobs!" Snare snapped.

"It won't have to be free," Kali said slowly. "I want you to take me to the Order's headquarters."

"Why, weren't you there before?" Flinch was genuinely surprised.

"No and neither was he," Kali snapped.

"Okay," Flinch said slowly. "I can get us there."

"And the paying part?" Snare asked, ruffled that once again the legless female seemed to get the situation back to her advantage.

"The Order's treasury, of course!" Flinch said slowly. "Brackus may've depleted it somewhat by paying his mercenaries, but it's still mostly full!"

"The treasury, you say?" Snare's spirits perked up immediately. "This warrants a look. Hit it, scientist."

Several moments later, the clearing was empty. Moreover, although neither the Defenders, nor the Ethos and their agents, nor the Order itself knew it, but the Order was back.

And it was going to stay back in business as well.


End file.
